


Like Clockwork

by CrucioAndCoffee



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 19:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16248611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrucioAndCoffee/pseuds/CrucioAndCoffee
Summary: She didn’t know how it came to this. This laying in bed next to Rose Weil in the morning while the sun cracked through the windows, or curling up to her and playfully nipping her ear until she woke up.





	Like Clockwork

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend and it's my first with these characters so bare with me as I try to figure wtf I'm doing.
> 
> Not Beta read. Just Grammarly.

She didn’t know how it came to this. This laying in bed next to Rose Weil in the morning while the sun cracked through the windows, or curling up to her and playfully nipping her ear until she woke up.

It was only supposed to outfits, dresses, and designs. Daphne had hired Rose occasionally to be the costume designer on some of her films, albeit the lower budget ones, but Rose pulled through better each time. After all, it did take some time from the Met Gala to gain her reputation again, and now she was the most sought after. But Rose kept Daphne the top priority for one odd reason or another.

Now they worked together on every film, and Rose flew back and forth between her shop in New York to wherever Daphne called her too. It seemed she’d follow her anywhere.

Somehow that turned into dinners together where Daphne felt comfortable enough to eat in public and make a smile that wasn’t so forced and condescending. She liked Rose’s eccentric company, how she babbled in her Irish accent anxiously, and her passion for fashion. She’d stumble over her words sometimes, and at first, it was annoying, but now it was cute. Somehow it was a little game, how much could she make Rose stutter?

She’d show more shoulder or pout her lips, and maybe give her a glance reserved for lovers. Each time, without fail, Rose seemed to stutter, babble, or break.

It might have been the one night they’d gone for drinks and had a few too many, that started this all. Rose pulled her close and whispered to her in French everything she loved about her; every curve of her body, perfect, her pout, and big bright eyes. The flattery was welcome, and Daphne bit her in response, looking over Rose. It was unique to hear her so confident. It must have been the Alcohol.

Daphne looked at Rose, drinking from her cup as she thought. She liked the woman’s looks, her strong jaw, and piercing eyes hidden behind a pair of designer glasses. Something about Rose was intriguing, but Daphne never could point to what exactly.

That night was fueled by liquid courage and haughty uncontrolled compliments. Daphne took Rose back to her hotel in a grand suite, pushing her against the wall and kissing her, lulling sweet nothings to her in French, which Rose answered with breathy precision.

Clothes came off, mornings dawned, like clockwork every time they worked together—and they worked together often.

That’s how Daphne Kluger ended up in bed with her fashion designer, holding her curves tightly, and teasingly kissing the skin of her shoulder.


End file.
